Infinity, The Arcade Age

Amid the sounds of screams and the clash of weapons, enemies surged from all directions.

The group that had jumped from the second floor, led by Qin Ming, was desperately trying to break through the encirclement. However, the sheer number of enemies was overwhelming. Earlier, when they had the advantage of cover, the farmers could barely hold their ground against the attackers. But now, without that cover, facing the enemy head-on in open combat, they were completely outmatched.

As the fighting escalated, the village began to suffer casualties. At this rate, it would be a miracle if even a tenth of the villagers managed to escape alive.

Just as Qin Ming hurled a massive log, knocking over two unlucky enemies, and switched to frantically slashing with a sword in one hand and firing his revolver in the other, a deafening battle cry suddenly erupted from the rear of the enemy ranks.

The attacking soldiers paused, confused, turning to see what was happening.

At the village entrance, a large man wielding a giant axe was leading a charge of about thirty soldiers.

The man at the front cut down every enemy in his path with sheer brute strength, and few could survive more than three blows from him. The soldiers behind him were well-trained and perfectly coordinated.

The sudden arrival of these reinforcements threw Scorn's swordsmen into disarray. On the other hand, the despairing villagers suddenly had their hopes reignited.

Women and children, gathered at the second-floor exit, watching their men fighting desperately below, cheered loudly.

"Percival is back! Percival has returned to save us!!!"

Hearing the thunderous shouts, Qin Ming, who had been fighting fiercely, paused, a look of relief crossing his face as he lowered his broken sword.

Of course, the protagonist arrives just in time. They always do.

The enemy soldiers, now in full panic, began to turn toward the entrance, trying to stop Percival and his men, mainly to protect their wounded leader in the back.

Seeing this, Qin Ming's eyes gleamed as he raised his sword and roared, "Brothers! Reinforcements are here! Charge with me!!"

With his shout, Qin Ming charged forward, his target now clear—the First Act's boss, Scorn, who was already locked in battle with Percival's group.

The remaining villagers exchanged determined looks, nodded at one another, and without hesitation, lifted their weapons and followed Qin Ming into battle.

Caught between two forces, Scorn's swordsmen quickly lost all sense of coordination, falling into utter chaos.

Meanwhile, up on the church's second-floor roof, White Wolf, who had avoided the battle by hiding and had just broken through the wall on the other side, hesitated. His expression shifted as he watched the old men, women, and children gathered at the entrance, anxiously watching the fight.

He contemplated whether to join the battle below or continue his current plan. But instead of descending to fight ordinary enemies, his gaze drifted toward the corner of the second floor...

There, the Militia Captain, covered in bandages and blood, lay groaning softly, tended by a nearby woman.

The woman, diligently wiping blood from the captain's face with a cloth, smiled warmly and said, "Captain, don't worry too much. Mr. Hyena is very brave. He successfully led us to hold the line, and Lord Percival has already come to our aid. Everything will be fine. The village is safe now, just focus on getting better—"

Before she could finish, her eyes suddenly widened, and a mouthful of blood sprayed from her lips.

She collapsed forward, revealing White Wolf standing behind her, his face twisted into a vicious snarl.

Seeing this, the Militia Captain's eyes widened in shock, and as he tried to speak, White Wolf pounced on him, covering his mouth. Without hesitation, he pulled the short sword from the woman's skull and plunged it into the Militia Captain's chest.

As he held the captain down, muffling his cries, White Wolf's face contorted with rage, veins bulging on his forehead.

"You old fool! You had to go and take what didn't belong to you, didn't you? For the love of God, drop the silver weapon when you die!"

After stabbing him repeatedly, White Wolf finally killed the severely injured Militia Captain. He quickly snatched the blue key that dropped from the captain's body, and, glancing around to make sure the others were still focused on the battle outside, let out a breath of relief.

Without wasting a second, he scrambled through the hole he had made earlier and slipped out.

Once on the ground, he dashed into the woods while feverishly opening the treasure chest he had taken.

As the chest's light flashed, a silver weapon materialized in his hands.

Name: The Village's Finest Sword (Damaged)

Type: Dull Silver Equipment

Stats:

Strength +5

Constitution +3

Agility +3

Description: A sword that has been damaged through intense combat. Though slightly flawed, it remains sharp.

Looking at the weapon he had looted, White Wolf's eyes widened in disbelief, and in his surprise, he misstepped and tumbled to the ground.

But as he lay there covered in dirt, he suddenly burst into crazed laughter, gripping the sword tightly.

He raised it high above him, watching its cold gleam in the moonlight, and held it close to his chest, ignoring how it cut into his clothes.

"It was worth it! It was all worth it! Everything was worth it! Hahaha! I've risen! I'm finally rising! I'm unstoppable now!!!"

While White Wolf reveled in his newfound treasure, the battlefield had shifted dramatically elsewhere.

Having lost one of his eyes to Qin Ming, Scorn, who had been recovering and commanding from the rear, was now directly facing Percival's forces.

In terms of pure combat ability, Scorn was definitely stronger than Percival, who had not yet reached his full potential.

But Scorn had made the unfortunate mistake of losing an eye and being severely injured by Qin Ming.

Moreover, Percival had arrived with his troops, while Scorn had already sent most of his soldiers into battle.

This imbalance quickly turned the tide. Before long, Scorn found himself on the defensive.

Faced with the man who had led the assault on his homeland, Percival fought with unrelenting fury, pushing himself to 120% of his strength.

Under the relentless assault, the already injured Scorn began to falter.

After receiving several heavy blows from Percival, Scorn finally resorted to throwing his own men into the fray to slow Percival down, using the distraction to drag his wounded body and flee.

Although Percival wanted to give chase, he was also worried about the current state of the village.

After a brief moment of hesitation, he decided to abandon the pursuit and instead returned to the village, helping the villagers mop up the remaining enemies.

Outside the village, Scorn, now fleeing for his life with two trusted subordinates, clenched his teeth, still covering his bleeding eye.

The sudden and total collapse of his forces had left him in shock. Once he snapped back to reality, his first thought was to seek reinforcements—to contact nearby lords and ask them to send troops to suppress this rebellion.

Losing his army didn't matter. As long as he was still alive, he could rebuild. Soldiers were replaceable. With time, he could always recruit more.

Parsi Village! Percival ! And that damned brat!

None of this is over!

As he thought through his next steps while retreating, the subordinate leading the way suddenly halted.

Having lost one of his eyes, Scorn's vision was limited, and he nearly ran into him. Startled, he stopped and angrily shouted, "Why the hell did you stop?!"

But before his subordinate could answer, Scorn quickly understood.

Up ahead, at the end of the road, a familiar figure stood, quietly toying with a revolver in his hand...

(End of Chapter)